


Family by Choice

by Rangergirl3



Series: Whumptober 2019 [27]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood and Injury, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Keith (Voltron) Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24050440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rangergirl3/pseuds/Rangergirl3
Summary: Keith understands why Matt escaped with Pidge. He does.That doesn't make what the Galra have in store for him any easier, though.
Relationships: Coran & Keith (Voltron), Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt, Matt Holt & Keith
Series: Whumptober 2019 [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1506101
Comments: 27
Kudos: 175





	Family by Choice

**Author's Note:**

> For the Whumptober 2019 Day 25 Prompt: Humiliation

He doesn't know what day it is anymore.

The pain makes it so difficult to think.

It's maddening.

When sounds trickled in through the walls of his cell, Keith didn’t bother looking up. It was just going to be more guards, coming to ask him more questions that he doesn't have the answers to.

Now, more than ever, he was glad for the Blades’ safety measures.

* * *

_Several days earlier_

Keith looked down at the small white tablet in his palm, then back up at Kolivan.

“So...is this supposed to kill me?”

Kolivan’s expression, as usual, showed little to no reaction.

“No.”

Keith raised an eyebrow.

“Then what is it supposed to do?”

Kolivan turned slightly away from him, replacing the bottle of medication back on its shelf in the Blade of Marmora’s infirmary.

“It’s a biochemical safety measure.”

Keith barely repressed the urge to interrupt with something along the lines of “Okay, but what does that _mean_?”

Much to Keith’s relief, Kolivan continued.

“If you are captured during an infiltration mission, taking this ensures that you are unable to recall any information regarding the Blade or anything else of military interest.”

Keith looked down again at the small white tablet. It looked so small, lying there in the center of his palm.

“So...it...erases the memory from my mind completely?”

Kolivan shook his head. “Not at first. It merely....how would the humans say it...It would put the information temporarily out of reach.But, if the antidote is not taken in time, yes, it would erase the information entirely.”

Keith’s brow furrowed as he tried to follow this explanation, but Kolivan summed the matter up succinctly enough.

“This means that, no matter what happens to you, they won’t be able to make you divulge vital information against the Blade, or Voltron.”

_The cub all but glares back up at him._

_“I wouldn’t tell them anything.”_

_Kolivan shrugs a shoulder._

_“Not willingly, perhaps. But everyone has a breaking point.”_

_The cub’s eyes narrow even further, but he doesn’t argue._

_Kolivan is glad for it._

“Let me be clear. We do not come back for those who are left behind.”

Keith nods. “I understand."

Kolivan turns away once more.

“I am glad that you do.”

* * *

Sure enough, Keith is dragged onto the bridge of the Galra ship and forced onto his knees, facing a wide, open space. He can tell this room isn't just another cramped interrogation cell for several reasons. First off, it doesn't smell like the interrogation cells. Blood, piss, and pain leave behind a scent that isn't easily cleared away. This place smells much too clean, and the ceilings are far too high for it to be one of the claustrophobic chambers that he'd been taken to before. Since he's blindfolded, that last observation is something of a guess, but the echoes of the drone's footsteps had been noticeable as it had entered the room, dragging Keith behind it. Finally, the light that spills across the floor is tainted purple. Even through the blindfold, the all-too familiar color is enough to cause Keith’s stomach to clench.

He’d used to like the color purple.

Or maybe....

No. That thought remains out of reach.

A booted foot nudges the side of his leg. The voice that speaks isn’t that of a mechanical drone. 

“Ready to talk yet?”

Keith manages a grim smirk. He’s fairly certain that doing anything more than that would result inhim throwing up because god, his head _hurts_. Going days without adequate nutrition and barely enough water to survive does that to a person, and the beatings hadn't helped matters. Also, just as a general rule, snarky retorts were _much_ easier to mange when most of your concentration wasn’t focused solely on remaining conscious.

In all honesty, if this were just another interrogation session, he wouldn't even be making the effort to remain awake.

But he doesn't want to sleep again.

_That's where the nightmares find him._

* * *

The voice repeats the question. When Keith still doesn't answer, someone nearby chuckles. It's not a pleasant sound.

"Oh, so he's a _tough_ one, eh?"

The boot slams into the small of his back, and the force of the blow is enough to throw Keith off balance. He has nowhere to fall except forwards. He's able to twist in time to land mostly on his less-injured-than-the-other-one side, but with his wrists secured behind his back, he can't reach out to break his fall. 

He tries not to cry out when he hits the ground, but fails. 

It just hurts too much.

The person standing behind him, presumably the jackass who kicked him, says something dismissive about weaker species.

At that, Keith manages to pinpoint the general location of the sound. He kicks out blindly with one foot, distantly hoping that the blow connects with an actual Galra soldier. 

He knows he can't run. He's much too weak. Hell, he couldn't even walk here. The drones had to drag him to - wherever this is - by the wrists. 

Even so, he strikes out as best he can. Yes, in this moment, he might be weak, but he’d be damned before he gives up without a fight.

* * *

Much to Keith's surprise, his kick does connect with a living, breathing Galra.

The only problem is that the jackass saw it coming, and easily catches hold of Keith's foot with one hand before slamming it directly back onto the ground, hard enough t-

Pain. White-hot, all consuming. 

His ankle is _broken._

That's all Keith knows before the blindfold is torn away from his eyes, and all he can see is a Galra general smiling, smiling, _smiling_ down at him.

* * *

"So, you're the half-breed brat I've heard so much about." 

Keith desperately wishes he had the breath to answer with something smart, or clever, or at least insulting, but it's all he can do to keep from passing out from the pain.

The Galra general's smile isn't genuine. Or, if it is, it's genuine for all the wrong reasons. He begins to walk in a circle around Keith, examining him all the while.

"I must admit," the Galra says, "I'm impressed at your stubbornness. Most creatures would have expired by now."

Someone lets out a faint whimper. It sounds...scared.

Keith _is_ scared, he'd be an idiot not to be, but that noise is - it isn't coming from him. Not yet.

Keith doesn't understand why the Galra general is looking towards the far wall.

_Towards...the..._

Keith twists his head to see what the General is looking at, and what he sees is almost worse than he could have imagined.

It’s a comms screen. It takes up an entire wall of the main deck.

It's -

The Galra General is talking to -

Keith's vision spins. Black spots flicker in and out of his sight. Oh, god. Oh, _god_. 

It’s the Coalition. This is a direct line to the Coalition on Olkarion, and - Matt and Pidge are standing there - and Coran - and others - but - _Pidge_ -

She's only standing upright because Matt is helping her to remain so.

* * *

The memory of their last mission together darts into the front of Keith's mind.

_Separated._

_Poison gas._

_Unable to run._

_Surrounded._

_No time to get away._

_No time._

_No time._

_No time._

He'd seen Matt hauling Pidge into an escape pod, but even now, days later, she looks so pale. _Is she okay? No, there's no way she could have recovered from the mission yet._ _She should be in a pod. Or - oh, god, did she take permanent damage from the poison? Please, no - Pidge - **Pidge** -_

She's just staring back at him, and something about the heartsick expression on her face causes Keith's eyes to burn with unshed tears. He desperately wishes he could look away from his friends, but even as their eyes meet, cold metal fingers lock into place around the back of Keith's neck and just hold him there, unable to turn aside or look away or do anything other than stare up at the comms screen at the people he cares for even as he's used to hurt them.

The Galra general is saying something snide and condescending and completely predictable, but Keith doesn't bother listening.

_She shouldn't be here, please, not here, not this, please -_

"-but then, you did leave him behind, did you not?"

Matt's shaking. Pidge is crying.

Somewhere, amidst the pain and fear, anger stirs in Keith's heart. Keith is familiar with many emotions, and he knows, from long, _long_ experience, that while fear freezes, anger _burns_. He knows that what the Galra General is saying is a damn _lie_.

_Matt hadn't wanted to leave Keith behind._

_Keith had stayed because -_

_Because getting Pidge to safety had been priority number one._

_She'd been **poisoned**._

_If Matt hadn't gotten Pidge to safety when he did, she would have **died**._

_They hadn't wanted to leave without him, but he was too far away from the escape pod to make it in time._

* * *

Keith uses the anger for what may very well be the final time.

“ 's - okay,” he grits out through his teeth. “- d- d- n’t - lis-“

The grip around his neck tightens, cutting off his words, even as a dagger carves its mark down across the side of his face and curves under his chin, pouring blood as it goes.

Keith’s voice breaks mid-word, and he shudders silently.

“Speak out of turn again, and I’ll take your tongue,” the General murmurs in his ear.

Pidge is crying. Matt's fingers are trembling. Coran's eyes are hard and cold.

* * *

The General is saying something, something about - a cost - and then -

There’s an awful, burning, searing, incandescent point of agony against Keith's skin, focused just under his left eye.

_They’re burning him, they’re branding him, no, please, stop_

In desperation, Keith thrashes in place, but the grip on the back of his neck seems to be made of iron. He’s unable to recoil away from the heat, and -

Everything vanishes.

* * *

When he returns to consciousness, there's noise. So much noise, but the pain hasn't stopped. It's waited for him. 

There’s shouting, so much shouting. He thinks he can hear Coran.

_He won’t break, he won’t break, he **won’t** -_

The point of burning agony scrapes across his cheekbone, digging deeper into the muscle. The sound is horrible, and the smell - it’s -

Keith wants to be sick. He wants to cry. He wants to be _anywhere_ but here.

The heated point of the dagger changes direction, curving back up, closer to Keith’s eye.

Someone’s screaming now. It’s a horrible sound, almost animalistic in its pitch and volume, a mindless agony given voice, unending and eternal, conveying terror and pain in a language without words.

Dimly, Keith wonders why his throat hurts so badly even though it’s his _skin_ that’s burning.

More words cut through the pain, but only barely. At first, Keith doesn’t know which of the Galra is speaking, but the mocking tone makes it clear that it's the General.

“Counselor, I’m surprised. I thought you’d be delighted to witness a half-breed gain the distinguished markings of your race.”

In a flash of insight, Keith realizes what the Galra are doing. They’re branding him with a deliberate mockery of the Altean markings.

_That's -_

Keith cannot begin to fathom how much this must hurt Coran. The Altean markings, they're - they're supposed to be something _special_. Something unique, something precious, or given as a gift - not -

With a final vicious twist of the blade, the General finishes the first mark and moves on to the next.

In the brief moment between the sharp edge leaving his skin and descending once more, Keith looks up just long enough to make eye contact with Coran. The Altean Counselor’s face is ashen in horror.

Keith wants to be sick. He never wanted to hurt his friends like this. He never wanted to be used as a weapon against his allies.

“I-I’m - s-s-sorry,” he manages, just before the tip of the knife presses against the right side of his face. As the serrated edge digs into his skin, his ability to speak vanishes, along with coherent thought. He tries to regain his shattered appearance of calm, but then the burning, searing, awful point of pain returns, and it’s all he can do to keep his screams wordless, but he forces his mind away from trying to form the words that would beg the soldier to _stop, please, stop._

The dagger switches direction, slicing through the skin, curling down towards his collarbone. It doesn’t cut deeply. It doesn’t need to.

Keith's senses are already awash with pain. Every nerve ending in his body feels as if it is made out of molten metal.

He tries to tell himself that he’ll make it through this, he just has to -

The pain does not stop. He runs out of air, can’t get it back.

_Fire, fire, fire, he’s burning up inside._

As if reading Keith’s mind, the soldier holding the knife flicks it to one side, presses it against Keith's right shoulder, and increases the pressure. The edge of the dagger is slick and red when Keith finally loses the ability to think coherently, let alone keep from crying out in genuine fear.

_Hurts hurts hurts please please please no no no no stop stop stop_

He doesn't want to hurt anymore.

He just wants the pain to stop.

**Author's Note:**

> What?! Another prompt done?! :D :D (I mean, I know we're almost halfway through 2020 but hey, progress, right?! :D)
> 
> I'm doing my very super best to finish the last few prompts before the end of May, so um, please assume that any whump scenarios end with a rescue, and lots of love from the team as the whumpee (again, so sorry, Keith) recuperates. 
> 
> Please know that I ADORE your comments and kudos, and it's especially heartwarming to hear from readers on something like this, when an update has been particularly long in coming due to all the craziness going on right now. It helps me feel so much better to know you enjoyed it, or which part really struck you in the feels. <3 <3 <3
> 
> I'm on Tumblr - come say hi! :-)


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